we heard the man a’coming;
we didn’t know his name;
he was on a great black stallion
with a long and silky mane;
the hooves thundered on the highway
‘til he hitched his steed outside,
then wandered into the alehouse
after a long and weary ride;
we didn’t know from whence he came
nor where he wished to go;
we worried he was a highway man,
but were afraid to ask him so;
he quaffed down a pint of lager
to only ask for one more;
after several, he headed for the door
before he left he threw
two silver dollars on the bar,
exited to the stallion going somewhere far,
we watched as he rode that horse
down the trail and disappeared
over the hill,
just like our heroes
did in the oaters
and
we wished we could be like him
and
live in those cowboy movies.